


DA Snippets - Second Chances

by Niorah



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, F/F, Fantasy, Femslash, First Kiss, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 04:07:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3881674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niorah/pseuds/Niorah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SPOILER WARNING: This snippet contains possible spoilers for the Dragon Age: Inquisition post-ending. Set some time after the events of DA:I. Just when things seem to have taken a turn for the impossible, Lady Trevelyan finds out it's never too late for second chances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	DA Snippets - Second Chances

DA Snippets – Second Chances

The sun was high and a light breeze was keeping the heat at bay as the Inquisitor, and her endless entourage, were slowly making their way to the palace that was the new seat of the Divine.

Spring was all around, flowers were in bloom, and birdsongs were providing for some much appreciated music along the way.

Sitting comfortably on her trusted steed, Lady Trevelyan had more than enough time to think, on the long journey that was taking her to the first official visit of the Inquisition to Divine Victoria.

Several months earlier she had stood proudly by the side of her friend, Cassandra Pentaghast, as she was being ordained as the Divine the land of Thedas so desperately needed. Later that day she had had to say goodbye to the warrior, swallowing down the sadness, but not only that. The Herald of Andraste had been in love with the Seeker. Deeply, undeniably, tragically in love. Watching Lady Pentaghast leave through the big gates of Skyhold had been nothing short of heart-wrenching, even if the Inquisitor had been instrumental in helping her become Divine.

Now that the day she would see her again was finally here, she was quite conflicted. On the one hand, she couldn’t wait to be with her again, if only for just a brief visit. On the other hand, she had no idea what to expect. Would Cassandra have changed, even in the small space of a few months? Would she be happy in her new position? She remembered one day when they were discussing the upcoming election of the Divine, and Lady Pentaghast’s comment rang in her ears once more. ‘Why should my happiness matter?’

There was a deeper truth about those words, the truth of people like the both of them, who chose, more or less willingly, to set their personal lives aside in order to dedicate their time, their talents, and their energy to a greater cause, out of responsibility first of all. But shouldn’t they have at least a glimpse of happiness, from time to time?

Lost in her musings, Lady Trevelyan noticed at the very last moment that they were finally at their destination.

The place was incredible. They had built it in record time, to honour the new Divine, for sure, but most of all to symbolise a new beginning, for the Chantry and for all of Thedas, and they had put so much effort and so many resources into it. The architecture, the décor, the design, it was… opulent, to say the least. In the Herald’s mind, it did not fit at all with the Seeker, a practical, no-nonsense, down-to-earth woman if there ever was one.

Regardless, she smiled and nodded to the pompous welcoming party of Grand Clerics, and allowed them to escort her inside, all the way to what would be her private chambers in the few days to follow.

She was a bit disappointed that Cassandra hadn’t come to welcome her in person, but she imagined she must have been busy with some thing or the other, just like it always happened to her at Skyhold. Always something to do, always someone to meet, always a problem to solve. No rest for the Holy.

A decrepit Grand Cleric, whose face was more wrinkles than skin, loudly announced to her. “Divine Victoria will be honoured to share her evening meal with you, in the grand salon. A servant will be here to attend to your needs shortly. We wish you a good afternoon, and may the light of the Maker bless you, Herald of Andraste.”

As soon as the door closed behind her, Lady Trevelyan looked around. She was grateful to see a basin with some fresh water, that she used right away to rinse the tiredness of the long journey away. Then she noticed a fruit basket, and wondered if it had been a funny in-joke played by Cassandra, from the day they first met Dorian Pavus at the Chantry in Redcliffe. She smiled as she picked an apple and bit into it distractedly. She went to the balcony and enjoyed the view. In the distance, the roofs of Val Royeaux were shining in the sun, elegant and fancy.

It was strange to have nothing to do for a few hours. She went through her very small luggage and picked a book of Elven legends she had been reading, she climbed into bed with the serious intention of relaxing and nothing more. In a few minutes she was sound asleep.

-

The grand salon definitely lived up to its name. It was grand indeed. Lit up by crystal chandeliers hanging from the very high ceilings, even the floors were giving off light, it was almost blinding, in spite of the darkness of the evening outside. Marble and gold were the main materials that caught the eye from all around the spacious room. A long table was placed right in the middle of it, with seats for at least 30 people or so. So much for the intimate dinner the Inquisitor had been hoping for. 

The room was crowded by dignitaries from different places. She recognised easily the typical dressing style of Ferelden, of Orlais, even of the Free Marches. A couple of Grey Wardens were in attendance too, as were a handful of Templars.

A bell rang and silence fell. A door opened at the end of the room and Divine Victoria made her entrance. A long tunic in the canonical colours of cream and red covered her from head to toe, her head held high under the weight of a very silly, but very official looking tall hat. Lady Trevelyan couldn’t help noticing the dark shadows under Cassandra’s eyes. Her face looked tired but still stern, and stunningly beautiful, as ever. Her breath caught in her throat for a second.

The Divine let her eyes wander in a swift movement, as if she was looking for someone. When she saw the Inquisitor she stopped, her eyes lit up and a smile appeared on her lips.  
The Herald’s head swooned and she thought she was certainly falling to the floor as she felt her own lips opening to reciprocate that smile. For an infinity, it felt like they were alone in the universe.

A voice next to her broke her little moment of happiness with its thick Orlesian accent. “Will you look at that. I have been here for weeks now, and it is the first time I see her smiling.”

The Inquisitor turned to look at the invader of their private short moment and she forced herself to smile politely and nod.

With joyful surprise, Lady Trevelyan discovered she was being seated to the right of the Divine, who was of course at the head of the table. She had a tendency to forget that she was still the Inquisitor after all, possibly the most powerful leader in Thedas, and the reason why many of the rulers were in fact ruling in the first place, not to mention her victory against Corypheus, which granted a measure of peace to all and avoided the end of the world.

As they sat down, she immediately felt Cassandra’s hand reaching for hers under the table, and squeezing it gently and warmly, her voice no more than a whisper. “It is good to see you, Lady Trevelyan.”

Just those few words caused a storm inside the Herald’s heart. She hadn’t realised just how much she had missed the Seeker’s voice, her beautiful smile, her mere presence. She swallowed, hard, and replied in kind. “It is my pleasure to be here, Most Holy.”

Lady Pentaghast seemed to be taken aback by the use of her official title, and just for an instant a dark shadow crossed her eyes. The Inquisitor wasn’t given the time to inquire about it, as the servants started bringing food and drinks, and Cassandra’s attention was diverted by the incessant blabbering of other guests.

Halfway through the elaborate process that this meal was proving to be, the Divine stood up, followed by everyone at the table, of course, she excused herself and she left.

The Inquisitor was confused for a moment, until the masked Orlesian lady sitting across from her enlightened her. “The Divine is known to do this, leaving her guests at the table like that. We are none the wiser as to her reasons for this rude behaviour, but we have grown accustomed to it by now.”

The Herald couldn’t help a small grin. If these pompous asses thought this was rude behaviour, they had never seen the best of Cassandra, by far. Uncompromising, stubborn, blunt, were just a few adjectives that sprang to mind right now, but she didn’t reveal her thoughts and kept to the simple strategy she had devised in order to survive the evening. Just smile and nod, smile and nod.

She allowed for a few minutes to pass, then she decided she had had enough of empty talk and unsavoury food. She herself got up, again, followed by the entire crowd at the table, and excused herself as well.

-

She made her way out of the grand salon as quickly as she could, feeling like she needed to gasp for air, and she tried to find the nearest exit into the gardens, her steps becoming faster by the second, she finally managed to walk out of the building as she was almost running. She stopped abruptly and inhaled deeply, grateful for the cool air expanding her lungs. Within two or three breaths, she started feeling better. She decided to take a relaxing stroll in the silent cloister and headed for the big well that was standing in the middle of it, quite a distance away, half hidden behind some tall plants.

She got there and she leaned with her elbows on the circular stone, the sweet perfume of jasmine was filling the night. She looked up at the stars, a strange melancholy pervading her at the thought of how much things had changed, and she sadly recalled how cold and distant Cassandra had looked at the dinner table after that feeble, quick greeting between them. Perhaps it was time to let this go. To store away somewhere dark and deep inside her all of the love she felt for the Seeker. To embrace the fact that their lives would seldom cross again, and only ever in an official surrounding. She could swear she felt the crack destroying her heart at the thought, but what else could she do?

The most welcome voice sounded behind her and shook her out of her sad musings. “I was hoping to find you here. You always had a penchant for solitary strolls back at Skyhold, and in Haven before that.”

It was haunting how the strange, exotic accent in the Seeker’s voice always sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. She slowly turned around, almost afraid that at the sight of the warrior she might finally lose whatever semblance of reason she was still hanging on to.

Her eyes, adapted to the dim light by now, took in the sight of the woman she so madly loved. She had ditched the official vestments of the Divine, as a matter of course really, and she was wearing a simple shirt of a delicate cream colour, her legs wrapped by her old and faithful leather pants, a pair of comfortable boots at her feet. Her jet black hair was still cropped shortly. The Herald’s mouth fell open of its own volition and it took her a moment to gather her thoughts in order to reply in a somewhat intelligible way.

“You know me, I’ve never been fond of these social gatherings. Such a waste of time, with people saying one thing but meaning another, all of them ready to stab you in the back at the first occasion, not one of them ever happy with how things are or thankful for the effort you are putting in in order to make everything work.”

Cassandra let out a short sarcastic snort. “Ha. You just described my average day.”

They shared a smile, then the Inquisitor’s face grew serious. “I am sorry to hear that, although I did not expect anything different really. I know you are giving and will always give nothing but your best as Divine, but I also know this is not your ideal environment.” She seemed pensive for a moment. “Tell me, did I make a horrible mistake in helping you get to the Sunburst Throne?”

The Seeker looked off in the distance and sighed. “It doesn’t matter, does it? The only thing of importance is what is best for the Chantry and for Thedas. Why would my personal preference make a difference?”

Lady Trevelyan stared at her. “It makes a difference to me.”

Cassandra didn’t budge. “It shouldn’t.”

There was a long moment of silence, then the Herald addressed what had been bothering her since earlier at the table. “When you greeted me, did I do something wrong? Your face went from happy to see me to ice cold as soon as I opened my mouth.”

The Divine leaned casually against the stone of the well, she crossed her arms on her chest and lowered her face, her brows coming together in a somber expression. “It was a gut reaction. You were the only one at that table that I can truly call a friend, the only one I trust, seeing you there was such a joy… I couldn’t help my warm welcome, I needed to find your hand, to grab it, to be sure you were real. Then you called me by one of my official titles. ‘Most Holy’. It sounded so unlike you to do that. I felt like maybe you had changed, and at the same time I was reminded that we are not the same people we were… before.”

Lady Trevelyan turned to face her. “You caught me unprepared. I thought you would have to be all business and stuck up. I honestly did not know which way I was supposed to react, so I tried to be respectful and followed the rules. And of course I failed you. I am sorry.”

The Seeker raised her eyes to meet the Herald’s and seemed to be searching for a long moment, then she made up her mind. “I believe you.”

The Inquisitor grinned, she dramatically clutched her heart and let out a long sigh. “Oh, thank the Maker! Most Holy is very generous tonight. I’m not worthy.” She exaggerated a bow.

Cassandra almost laughed. “Impertinent as ever. It is good to see that some things never change.”

“They better not. I base my faith on the endurance of this world on your impeccability and obstinacy. The day they disappear from you will mark the beginning of the end.” The Herald chuckled, very happy to see that despite their initial misunderstanding, there was still the usual familiarity between them.

Lady Pentaghast seemed to be pondering something as she moved to face her friend. Her voice suddenly turned to a sweeter tone and she reminisced. “So many things have changed though. I take some time for myself when I can. I choose to come here for a few moments of privacy, instead of wasting it at the table, surrounded by opportunistic snakes. I give up food for my body in exchange for food for my soul.”

“Ah yes, I have been told of your barbaric behaviour…”

“They can call it however they want. When I am alone, I have the chance to think, and at times my mind goes back to memories of my life as it was when I was still at Skyhold, still fighting a very visible enemy, at your side.”

“Good times…” The irony in the Inquisitor’s voice was playful and light hearted.

“Indeed. But then I also consider… the choices I have made. How things would have been different if I had just…” The Seeker seemed to be stumbling. “I am not good with words. But there is one thing that I need to speak of.” She took another step and she caught the Herald’s hands in her own, holding them gently. Her eyes were looking at their fingers as they entwined in a surprisingly natural gesture.

The Inquisitor’s heart skipped a beat and her mouth went dry as she listened to what the Divine had to say.

“Lady Trevelyan… that sunny day, on the battlements, when you told me you had in fact been flirting with me, and that you were serious about it… I pushed you away, I hid my refusal behind your role as Inquisitor and Herald of Andraste. I even told you I could not reciprocate your feelings because you are a woman. I am ashamed to have waited for so long, but I do believe you deserve the truth.”

By now the Herald’s head was spinning just enough to make her dizzy, but she made the best of it, and she nodded for the Seeker to continue.

“And the truth is, I was terrified. You were standing in front of me, this one person that I admired and respected and trusted and regarded so highly, telling me that you deemed me so special to you that you wanted more than a mere friendship. I panicked. I had no idea what to do with it, I thought I was not that special to begin with. I always considered myself too difficult, too hard, too grating to ever be seen as the potential object of anyone’s affection. And yet you were there, a solid proof of the contrary… I wish now that I had been more daring, that I had been less afraid, instead of finding myself stuck in the middle and paralised.”

A storm of possibilities was raging inside the Herald, a thousand different scenarios playing in her head chaotically at those words. In a second, everything seemed to calm down, time itself stood still and everything became clear. Without thinking any more, she acted.

Her hands wriggled free of the Seeker’s and came up to cup her face. Her thumb caressed the deep scar on her cheek for a moment, lovingly, their eyes locked, burning, then she pulled her face and her whole body closer, and their lips met, colliding in a perfect kiss, seemingly made to fit together, soft, warm. She felt Lady Pentaghast’s arms wrapping around her waist, holding her close, her own fingers buried in the Seeker’s short hair, clenching in a grip of too long denied passion. 

She stumbled backwards until her lower back hit the stone well, providing her with some much needed support, dragging the Divine along with her. Their lips parted, the Inquisitor’s teeth bit the warrior’s lower lip, eliciting a small moan from deep in her throat, then she proceeded to soothe it with the tip of her tongue, before plunging into her hot, welcoming mouth. 

They shared long, wet caresses and hungry sighs, the Seeker’s body pressing hard against the Herald’s, then suddenly she allowed herself to slide down to the ground, carrying Lady Trevelyan with her, opening her legs to let the rogue settle easily on top of her, her heart threatening to jump out of her chest as she welcomed the weight of the Inquisitor, their lips gliding, melting together. It was turning into a blind, breathless desire.

Lady Pentaghast grabbed the Herald’s face and pulled her head back, her tongue covered her neck in a long stroke, then she bit it not too gently, just below her ear. The Inquisitor’s voice rushed out of her in a hot plead. “Cassandra…”

The Seeker stopped, her chest visibly panting, and she smiled, looking deeply into her eyes. “I guess it was not too late for us, then.”

“I would wait for you forever.” There was an unquestionable truth in the Herald’s tone.

“You don’t have to.” Their foreheads rested together and their noses lightly touched. “I still wonder, though. What shall we do now?”

Lady Trevelyan’s lips curled in a shameless grin. “I do happen to have very spacious chambers at my disposal. Filled with every commodity. Even with a bed. Which I hope will turn out to be as sturdy as it is comfortable…”

Cassandra allowed herself a soft laugh, her heart filled with a warmth she had never felt. “Well, there is only one way to know for sure.”

There was a growing fire in the Inquisitor’s eyes. “I have always loved your practical disposition.”


End file.
